James Dean
by ledgerndary
Summary: What starts as something small in the summer of 1957 quickly turns into something serious when Seth meets Dean, the crazy adrenaline junkie who insists on cliff diving and holding hands in public. In an era where homosexuality is thought of as atrocious, they go through obstacles to protect what they so desperately want to keep. [Ambrollins AU]
1. Introduction

**April, 1957**

Seth's eyes seemed to wander around the diner effortlessly, like they always did, and his gaze was just about anywhere except on Nikki, who would snap her fingers every once in a while to regain his attention. _Nikki, the tall, gorgeous brunette with pretty brown eyes and big breasts, the most popular girl at school_ , Seth had to remind himself every time he was with her, because quite frankly he didn't want to take her company for granted. Still, he never truly knew why she was always hanging around him.

He wasn't exactly the popular type. He was thin, wore glasses (that he often pushed up from the bridge of his nose), hair dyed two different colors, and spent most of his time at home, studying. Nikki would go out to parties with her friends, and she'd ride in the back of new cars with boys, and she'd go to the beach with her twin sister, and she was _way_ out of his league. But somehow they always ended up in the diner every night, and Seth would always try his best to give her his full attention.

Tonight was a different case, and it was far more difficult for Seth to keep his eyes on the girl in front of him.

Sitting in the opposite side of the restaurant was Dean Ambrose.

Dean Ambrose was something different. Everyone in town knew who he was. Bad kid with a bad reputation and an abusive father and a dead mother and a motorcycle he'd been riding for years. _Bad news._ Rumors were constantly spread about Dean, which left people wondering and wondering about what was real and what wasn't. Seth had heard lots about him, but at this point, he didn't know _what_ to believe.

Seth had never seen Dean in person until tonight. Yeah, he knew what he looked like, hell, _everyone_ knew what Dean looked like. But for Seth, seeing him up close like this was like looking at a brand new display at a museum.

Dean had this really mean looking face, mostly because he was scowling all the time. Seth thought that maybe if he smiled, he'd look a bit nice. Nearly all the men around here tried to act tough to get the ladies, but he knew not everyone was as rough as they claimed to be. Practically babies in leather jackets. But as much as Seth tried to imagine Dean with a happy expression, the mental image would not come.

Seth sank in his seat and kept his eyes straight ahead, pretending to look at Nikki, but his gaze still studying the boy ahead of him. His dirty blonde hair, his _haircut_ , the leather jacket draped over his lap, his big combat boots, and how strong his jawline looked.

And just below that strong edge of his face were a couple of bruises.

Everyone knew Dean loved to start fights. Dean had taught _himself_ how to fight, how to defend himself. Dean had taught himself how to survive the obstacles he put himself through. So really it wasn't a surprise to Seth that he found so many injuries on Dean's body. The thought of that made Seth shudder, and he looked down, zoning back into reality, Nikki's voice becoming clear again.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" she asked, a hint of irritation in her voice as she held her drink in one hand and her other on her hip.

Seth bit his lip and looked at her, thinking, _Oh, don't look behind her. Don't look at Dean. He will literally come over and rip your throat out if you stare at him too long. Don't look at Dean. Focus on Nikki. Stop staring. It's creepy._ "Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm just. . really tired tonight, I guess."

Nikki half-smiled and gave him a sympathetic look as she took a sip of her soda. "Tired of what? We didn't have school today, you doofus."

"Right." Without thinking, Seth leaned over and looked behind her, staring at Dean once again, losing himself in thought.

Nikki obviously caught that, and she made a face, following Seth's gaze, and her eyes finally found Dean. "Seth," she said in a harsh whisper, eyes wide as she played with her straw. "Don't."

Seth just nodded, eyes still on Dean, and his heart nearly stopped when they made eye contact. His sight went down, and his heart began to race. He tried to look around the diner to make it seem like his eyes had just wandered, but really his eyes only landed on Dean again. Now, I know what you're probably thinking. The whole cliché _love at first sight_ thing, but no. Seth's heart wasn't racing because Dean just looked so glorious in that booth across the room. Seth's heart was racing because he was scared _shitless._

But Dean didn't even acknowledge him for more than 5 seconds. Just shrugged it off and finished the last sip of his Coca-Cola bottle. He cleared his throat, and he suddenly stood up, putting on his leather jacket. He was out of the diner faster than Seth could process.

He blinked rapidly, swallowing hard. His gaze returned to Nikki again, and he fidgeted with his fingers. "I'm. . . that was. . sorry."

Nikki looked a bit shocked, or maybe worried, and she leaned down to look up at him. "Are you okay? Maybe you should go home to get some rest."

Seth immediately glanced at her again, and he nodded more enthusiastically than he should've. "Yeah yeah yeah, definitely." In a swift move, he had collected his bag and carelessly thrown it over his shoulder, and he was jogging out the door.

And that, for as long as Seth could remember, was the day he first gained a curiosity, or maybe he would call it an _interest_ , in Dean Ambrose.


	2. Chapter 1

**June 18, 1957**

That late Spring, Seth turned 18 years old. 18 years old meant graduation, and graduation meant summer vacation. Summer vacation meant three straight months of studying every night and visits to the beach when it was completely empty, and no more Nikki and no more anything. Unlike everyone else, Seth hated summer vacation. So when it finally came in mid-June, and he had officially passed High School, he began to think of ways to make his break more interesting.

The first thing Seth did, however, was take that stupid blonde patch out of his hair. It was desperately in need of a new touch, but he knew that coloring it too much would lead to damage, and that was the last thing he wanted. Besides, he was an adult now. Adults didn't have two-toned hair. At least not professional ones, anyway. And that's exactly what Seth aspired to be. A successful, professional adult, just like his father.

But he'd had that hairstyle for two years, and when he walked out of the barber-shop with plain black hair, he felt different, strange. Maybe, just maybe, a tad bit normal.

It had been days later, and before Nikki left for Scottsdale, he called her and invited her over to the cinema. (Seth had decided he need to be more social, even if it meant it'd only be with Nikki for a while.) They watched a new movie, _The Prince and the Showgirl._ Marilyn Monroe never ceased to amaze Seth, and Laurence Olivier was pretty good in it too. Nikki, surprisingly, didn't seem as interested as Seth was, and that kinda disappointed him.

She had insisted she was tired after the movie, but thanked Seth and gave him a kiss on the cheek before her boyfriend John came to pick her up in his fancy car. As she waved goodbye to him with her long eyelashes and her pretty smile, Seth felt hopeless. He needed to make a new friend. Nikki just wasn't the one for him.

But for the moment, he'd think. He'd change a bit, he'd buy new clothes, get a damn car already, maybe a leather jacket, _something_ to make him fit in with everyone else. The whole hair thing was taken care off, but maybe he'd cut it short too, and cake it with gel like the other guys. It didn't seem like his style, but he was willing to do whatever it took.

With a long sigh, he went back inside and bought another ticket for _Tammy and the Bachelor_. Completely _alone._ The theater was pretty empty except for himself, some loud Juniors from school and a couple in the seats behind him, making out the whole time. He was pretty bored during most of the scenes, mostly because he didn't bother paying attention and he had nowhere to be anyway, until he saw the color of Peter's eyes. Blue.

He didn't know why the color seemed so familiar to him. But the feeling was there, and he itched to know what it was. _Why_ it had captured his attention. He squinted, eyes locked on the screen, as he tried to figure it out. It was something captivating. Where had he seen such blue eyes before? He wondered until the movie was over. Scratching his head, he brushed the thought off, and walked out of the place into the cold street after filing out.

Seth checked his watch. It was 11PM.

He hoped he'd make it home safe. It was dangerous at night, he knew that. And he didn't have a car yet, meaning he'd have to walk.

Running a hand through his hair, he walked, hands in the pockets of his jeans, chills running down his spine as the cold air stung his face. His jacket was off and draped over his arm. He wasn't that cold, anyway. He glanced up at the night sky, eyes trailing over the bright stars, as he breathed in and out, calmly. He realized he wanted to fly up to the stars, maybe dissolve into one. He felt desperately lonely. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw one, another star. It was the brightest one in the sky. Maybe it was 100 light years away, who knew. But that star made him smile, and he thought, _No, this summer will be different._ _I just know it_.

But then he thought, _No. It'll be the same. Always thinking about how things should_ be _instead of how they really_ are _. Shut up, Seth_.

God, he needed therapy.

The more Seth walked, the more tired his legs got, and he still needed to walk around 20 blocks. There weren't any signs of trouble nearby, until the roar of an engine suddenly stunned him, and he stopped dead in his tracks. _A bunch of bikers coming to steal my money_ , he had thought at first, eyes closed as he cursed under his breath, but he didn't hear their usual rowdiness.

When he was about to start walking again, he saw it. A car pulled up beside him. Seth slowly looked over, and his breath suddenly caught in his throat, his heartbeat racing.

It had been nearly three months since the whole staring-in-the-diner thing, and Seth's fears of facing Dean were gone. He had thought long and hard that night, how Dean was just human. A really _scary_ human, but flesh and bones and a beating heart nonetheless. But really, Seth hadn't thought about Dean until he actually _saw_ him sitting in the _driver's seat of the car_.

"Hey, _you_ ," Dean called, with that raspy, deep voice that Seth had never heard before in his life (until now). "You need a ride or something?"

Seth was breathing hard now, frozen in place, eyes staring.

He couldn't find his words. _It's just Dean Ambrose_ , he reminded himself. _Just a human. Like me._ _Talk, goddamn, he'll get_ impatient! ". . . Uh, n-no. I'm f-I'm fine. I'm alright. Thank you," he struggled, almost about to start walking again, until Dean insisted again.

"Hey, 30 minutes and it's midnight, pal. I got all night. I don't mind."

"No," Seth whispered harshly. "I'm almost there."

Dean's eyes were wandering over Seth's body, the dark-washed jeans and the white shirt and the really ugly brown vest he had over it with the jacket over his arm and _damn, why didn't he dress nicer tonight?_ And then Dean's gaze landed on Seth's pouty face, and the glasses. "Listen, tough stuff, I don't _mind_. Get in here. It's cold, and I don't want you getting jumped, you understand?"

 _Why do you care?_ Seth wanted to ask, but chose not to, instead shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. _What if I don't get into his car and he kills me instead? Listen to him, Seth. Just listen._ "Um. . . okay."

He walked to the other side of the car, hand carefully gripping the handle, and he opened the door. He almost hesitated before getting in, and as soon as he was seated, he felt like screaming. _I'm in Dean freakin' Ambrose's car! He's gonna kill me. In his car. I'll never become a lawyer. I took my blonde patch out for_ nothing _. I'll never see Nikki again. Not one James Dean movie, either. Ever again._

"Where are you headed?"

"Home."

"And home is where, exactly?"

"About 20 blocks ahead. Comet Street."

Dean raised a brow and leaned over to look at Seth, who was staring out the window, fingers nervously fiddling around in his lap as Dean started to drive again.

"Don't you worry, sport. I'm earthbound," he said, and Seth glanced over, dark brown eyes sparkling. "I'll take you home, seriously. It's not usually what I'd do, but it's late, and you seem like a nice guy, so—"

"Just. . please floor it," Seth whispered, wanting to get out of this situation.

"Are you alright? I'm not gonna beat you up, if that's what you're thinking. Quite the contrary. I'm _driving you home_ ," Dean says, and Seth can hear the faint sound of _Bye Bye Love_ by The Everly Brothers playing on Dean's old radio. He can see Dean's calloused hands tapping to the rhythm, knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel. "Take it easy."

But Seth stays silent, and his mind wanders to a while earlier, when he was in the cinema, watching those two flicks he kinda liked. And then he thought about _Tammy and the Bachelor_ , and Peter's bright blue eyes. His stomach did a little flip, and he looked over at Dean once again. Dean, whose eyes were _blue_. And then when Seth closed his own, he thought back to the diner with Nikki and milkshakes and that nervous gaze he had on Dean the whole time, and the Coca-Cola bottle, and the low hum of an Elvis song. When he'd first seen him. The blue eyes.

Seth had _always_ liked blue eyes. James Dean had blue eyes. Leslie Nielsen had blue eyes. _Dean_ _Ambrose_ had blue eyes.

Breathing out a sigh of God knows what, he opened his eyes, teeth biting into his bottom lip. The song was over. They were about 7 streets before Comet.

Dean cleared his throat just as another song —one Seth didn't know—started playing. "So uh, what's your name?"

"Seth."

"Your folks just stopped at 'Seth'?"

". . . Rollins."

"Nice meeting you, Seth Rollins. I'm Dean. _Dean Ambrose_."

Seth was about to say he knew, but he didn't feel like talking. His throat felt dry, and he didn't know if it was because of the nervousness, what with being around this guy and all, but he didn't like it. He felt the pit in his stomach, like an adrenaline rush that isn't all that fun, and hurts instead. He wanted to leave that car already. So he stayed quiet. He didn't know _why_ he was so afraid of Dean. Maybe it was because of his own antisocial ways, and Dean was bad news. All the rumors he heard about Dean were overwhelming, that was it.

Either way, he sure as hell wasn't trying to befriend him.

When they reached Seth's street, Dean's car slowed down, and he asked Seth what the house number was. Seth didn't respond, simply just pointed to the house right in the middle, the biggest one on the block. Recently painted a yellow color, with dozens of rows of flowers in the front yard. Two cars parked on the curb. A small little mailbox. " _This is your house_?" Dean asked, bewildered. He chuckled, something apparently funny. "It suits you."

Seth gave him a look, but sighed when the car stopped on the curb next to the other two. "I didn't mind walking. But thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

"Give me a call when you need your next one," Dean teased, and Seth timidly got out of the car, giving him a small, nervous, obviously fake smile. "Be careful and take care, pal."

Seth nodded, eyes looking anywhere but Dean. He ambled over to his door, and knowing it'd be open for him, stepped right in. Crouching down next to the window, Seth peered out the window through the thin blinds. Dean's car was still parked out there for a few seconds, and then it sped away. _He'd waited for me to be inside,_ Seth realized with an exhale of relief. He rubbed at his forehead, feeling a headache coming.


	3. Chapter 2

**June 19th, 1957**

Seth slept until nearly 12PM. He didn't usually sleep till that hour, but he never went to bed as late as he had the previous night, either. As soon as he awoke, his thoughts were completely and all: Dean, the night sky, bright stars, Marilyn Monroe, blue eyes, Dean, Dean's gray Impala, _Bye Bye Love_ , the rows of flowers in his front yard that he saw every single day but happened to look slightly different that night, " _I'm earthbound",_ Dean, Nikki waving goodbye, Dean, Dean, Dean, the brightest star, the entire night before.

When it was almost 1PM, and after lying in bed for a while, he got dressed and went downstairs. Buttoning his vest as he stepped down the stairs, he saw his mother in the kitchen, wiping off the table. His little brother and his father were nowhere to be seen. _One at work and the other out playing_ , Seth assumed. Looking around the kitchen, he cursed under his breath, realizing he had missed breakfast. He'd have to go to the diner to get something to eat, because his mother would most likely go off to work in a while. He didn't mind it, really. Lauren's Diner was one of his favorites. Maybe because he'd been going to that diner with Nikki for as long as he could remember, anyway. However this time, he'd go alone.

"Well look who's finally up," his mom, Amy, said, smoothing out her dress, a little smile on her lips as Seth went over to kiss her cheek. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna head over to Lauren's, get myself something to eat."

She ruffled his hair and patted his shoulder in response. Just as she was about to leave the room, she turned back towards him and furrowed her eyebrows, a weird expression on her face. "Oh, son, by the way, there's someone outside. . waiting for you."

Seth served himself a cup of water and leaned against the counter, curious, taking a sip. "Doesn't Nikki leave for Scottsdale tonight? What's she doing here? You should've invited he—"

"Sweetheart, it's not Nicole," his mother told him, expression stern, arms crossed. "It's a boy." She said it as if it was the most unexpected thing in the world. As if Seth would never have a guy friend waiting outside for him. It'd never happened before, and his mother was equally as curious.

Seth's heart started beating fast again. _A boy?_ _Oh, no._

Putting the cup down immediately and almost spilling his water in the process, he ran to the window, once again crouching down. From the bottom of the windowsill, he peeked out of the blinds ever so slightly, and sure enough, the gray Impala was parked exactly where it had parked the night before. Once again, his thoughts ran wild. _What's he doing here? Did he return to completely slaughter me? Why is he here? I'm_ trapped!

His mother came to the window, eyeing Seth suspiciously. "Are you alright?" she asked him, almost about to glance out of the window herself, but Seth only gently nudged her away, standing to his feet, hands at his hips, unsure of what to do.

He inhaled, exhaled, repeated. Looking at his mother, he tried to react. _I'm fine._ "I'm fine." He looked out of the window once again, for a tiny 3 seconds. Everything was quiet. Dean was sitting on the hood of the car, completely calm, elbows on his thighs, hands balled into one under his chin. Everything was _fine_. Seth glanced at his mom, nervously licking his lips. He sighed and thought about his plan for the summer. To be social. To be braver. To be normal. Maybe he could start here. Even if it was with guys like this.

So, with one final look, he quietly slipped past his mother. His hand was around the doorknob in a split second, and suddenly he saw the sunlight, and his feet were on the Welcome mat on their front door. Seth's door didn't creak, however, and Dean hadn't noticed Seth coming outside, only remained on the hood of the car, quiet. Seth, much like the night before, ambled over, thinking of how to greet Dean. _Hi? Hello? Hey? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?_

But Dean heard Seth's footsteps and glanced back, seeing him approaching before he even needed to say a word. A mysterious little smile formed on Dean's lips at the sight.

He hopped off the hood of the car and grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Hell-ooo, _Seth Rollins_."

Seth hugged his arms to himself, nodding once at the boy in front of him. His eyes wandered to Dean's body, noticing how dirty he appeared. Dark jeans, a stained white wife-beater and a leather jacket. Under Dean's right eye was a cut and a small black bruise—from a punch, Seth assumed. Had it been there the night before? He hadn't noticed.

"Why are you here?" Seth mumbled quietly.

Dean didn't respond, just went over to the passenger side of the car and dug around for something for a few seconds. Seth stood there patiently, thinking, _oh God, I hope it isn't an axe or a gun._ But Dean pulled out Seth's _jacket_ instead—the one he had with him the night before—and dangled it on his index finger. "I'm surprised you didn't notice you left this in my car last night."

Seth froze. He actually hadn't noticed. He hadn't _thought_ about it at all. He didn't even remember having the jacket at all at this point. He was so tired the night before.

Dean gave him a cheeky smile, holding out the jacket for Seth with his left hand, as his right hung by his side, his fingers drumming against his thigh as _A Fool Such As I_ , the Elvis song, played quietly from the radio in the car.

Seth stared blankly, blinking softly, before reaching over to retrieve his jacket. Despite the intense amount of sunlight (it wasn't hot at all, probably in the low 70s), he awkwardly slipped it on, eyes on Dean the whole time. "Thank you. . . again." It felt weird, thanking Dean Ambrose, the guy he was dead afraid of, the guy he made eye contact with in that diner a few months back, the guy who got into fights with everyone, the dirty blonde hair and the blue eyes, _Dean Ambrose_.

"Where are you headed?" Dean wondered, and Seth shifted awkwardly again, repeating those nervous antics from the previous day.

He looked down, playing with his fingers—yet another nervous antic. "Just. . out for lunch," he said, clearing his throat, deciding he wasn't gonna talk as quietly anymore. _Professional adults talk loudly, talk with confidence._ He wanted to leave that impression on Dean. A professional, confident adult.

Dean chuckled lightly, tilting his head. "I could go for some fries. Mind if I join you? I'll pay."

Seth looked up at Dean, feeling his cheeks redden a bit. "Yeah," he said a little too quickly. ". . I mean, no. I-I don't mind."

Dean seemed amused for some reason, and he tapped the top of the car, wordlessly inviting Seth in. Seth didn't know how long he stood there before actually getting in. The leather seats, where he'd been sitting the night before, were cold. The radio was playing another Elvis song now, and Seth knew right then and there that Dean was obviously a big fan. He was pretty sure he'd heard this song before, but he had no idea what it was called. He stared at the radio, eyebrows knitted together as he listened. Dean noticed his curiosity.

"'Don't Be Cruel'," Dean suddenly said after closing Seth's door, and the younger boy only flinched.

"Huh? . . W-what?"

Dean stared through the open window, a smirk forming on his lips. ". . . That's the name of the song."

"Oh."

Chuckling amusingly again, Dean went over to the driver's side of the car. Seth immediately felt awkward, rethinking back to the diner, to the night before, to the cinema. It seemed unreal, even though the cold leather and the song that was playing and the sunlight coming in through the window proved otherwise. It wasn't a dream. He was actually, legitimately in Dean's car again. He didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, so he settled on neither. It wasn't hurting him, anyway, was it? Dean was just taking him somewhere to eat. Nothing too serious.

Dean grinned over at him. "So, it was only recently that we met. Why don't you tell me about you, hm? What's your story? What's your label?"

Seth looked over, and he felt himself glaring at Dean, which he knew was probably a mistake, so he looked away again, down at his fingers. "I don't know."

Dean patted Seth's shoulder, almost encouraging, eyes on the road. "Oh, c'mon, sport. I'm sure there's somethin' interesting you can tell me. I don't want _strangers_ in my car, Seth. Let me get to know you."

"You were the one who invited me in."

Dean just shrugged, the same little smirk he had earlier coming back. He knew Seth was a little shy, but he also knew that if he pushed him the right way, he'd snap. At the thought, he sped up just a little, not too much over the speed limit, but just the right amount to get them to their destination quicker. He kept glancing at Seth from the corner of his eye, _knowing_ that Seth _knew_ this was odd. Knowing Seth was anxious, never being with someone other than the small amount of friends he'd had his whole life. Dean knew he was something different. He liked it. Driving his car at a reasonable speed with a boy who was awfully shy, going for milkshakes and french fries at noon, his favorite songs playing on the radio. He would never be able to do that with anyone else. But Seth was easily manipulated. And although Dean didn't _want_ to manipulate Seth, he knew he had to.

Seth licked his lips nervously, watching the tiny pastel-colored houses and the cars pass by. He _was_ anxious, not knowing what would happen. What if someone saw him in Dean's car? What would they think? He was in a car with a boy who had a bad reputation, a boy with dangerous eyes and a mean face, a guy the complete opposite of him. It was out of the ordinary. Seth studied and worked hard and went to the library and the frames on his glasses were always spotless. Dean's wifebeaters had stains from working on cars, and sometimes his jeans were torn, and his hair was all over the place, and he got into fights and Seth was pretty sure he never even went to school. Yet here they were. Having only talked twice, small words at a time, but doing something. _Together_.

When they reached the tiny little diner, the one where Seth had first seen Dean, he felt a lump in his throat. He wondered if Dean remembered that night too. A tiny little grin was on Dean's expression as he cut the engine, and a part of him told him that Dean did. Dean did remember.

"You plan on gettin' out, or what?" Dean asked, and Seth realized Dean had already pocketed his keys and was standing out by the window.

Seth got out of the car, and his feet stumbled awkwardly again. He almost tripped and fell on his face in the process of closing the door, but Dean held a hand on his shoulder, and Seth nodded a quiet 'thank you'.

Inside, the diner was pretty empty, which was unusual. It was Sunday. But then again, it was summer break. The High School kids were probably at the beach or at those fun racing events downtown. Doing something different. Seth was still in the same place. . the same diner. But wasn't he technically doing something different as well? He was with Dean Ambrose. Seth would count that.

Dean lead the way to one of the booths at the far corner of the restaurant and Seth quietly followed, his eyes counting the checkered black-and-white tiles on the floor as he walked. Sitting in front of Dean was something Seth would call extraordinary. Dean's forearms rested on the table, left one on top of his right, and he leaned in extra close, his torso nearly pressed against the table. His eyes stood out and appeared even more blue than they usually were, and they focused on Seth the entire time. They only glanced elsewhere at the window or at the neon lights beside them.

Seth stayed quiet, only talking when a waitress came to take their order. He and Dean ordered the same thing: fries and a chocolate milkshake. "Can you do me a favor there and add an extra cherry, Donnie?" Dean had asked, and Seth had smiled a tiny bit.

The whole waiting for the food part was a bit awkward, because neither of them were talking at first. But when Dean finally started talking, he wouldn't stop. Asking Seth about his family, about his friends, about Nikki, about everything. Seth would just give him the shortest answers he could come up with, but Dean wasn't satisfied. He continued asking and talking and talking even after they got their food.

"Why are you so uncomfortable?" Dean asked.

Seth sank in his seat a little bit and leaned back. "I don't know. I'm just not. . . used to this."

"Used to what?" Dean replied loudly, dipping some fries into his milkshake and shoving them all into his mouth at once. "Going on dates with guys like me on Sunday afternoons? Can't blame you."

Seth's brows furrowed. "Excuse me? This is _not_ a date."

Dean mimicked Seth's actions and leaned back against his seat as well, arms crossed, legs outstreched and brushing against Seth's. "It totally is."

" _No_ , it's _not_!" Seth said a little too defensively and a little too loudly. "I don't even _know you!_ "

"Sure you do!" Dean grinned.

"No, Dean, I _don't_." Seth glared at the boy in front of him. "Two days ago, I hadn't ever spoken to you. _You_ decided to pick me up in your car despite my protests and _you_ decided to drop my jacket off earlier and _you_ invited me out for lunch. It was all _you_."

Dean looked amused again, like earlier at Seth's house. His lips were curled into a tiny smirk, his cheeks exposing his dimples. "Calm down, baby-Seth. It's not a big deal. I mean—"

"What did you just call me?"

" _Seth_. I was just gonna say that. . you know. . I had a feeling we'd get along since that day a couple months ago. You know? When you were scared shitless, and I was—" he pointed. "—in that other stool over there. You were practically _holding_ Nicole's hand and your ey—"

"Okay, that's enough," Seth interrupted. "I _get_ it."

Silence.

"You could've just _said_ you wanted to be my friend," the younger boy said. "Instead of nearly kidnapping me in your car last night."

"I took you _home_. You were the one who was all paranoid yesterday. I was doing you a favor. I didn't want you walking home in the cold," Dean said, taking a long sip of his milkshake, eyes on Seth the whole time.

"And remind me why it matters?"

"I'm not cold-hearted, Seth," Dean sighed. "I happened to be passing by; I happened to see you. _No. . big. . deal._ You content now? Now shut up and eat your fries."

"I—"

"Seth, if you don't shut up and eat your fries, I swear on my own soul I will get up onto this table and serenade you with 'Don't Be Cruel' by Elvis at the top of my lungs. You know that song from earlier? Yeah, I'll _do it_."

"Dean, I don't understand wh—"

" _Come over here and love me_ ," Dean started, leaning forward, left foot on the seat, about to climb up onto the table. " _You know what I want you t_ —"

"No no no no! Dean." Seth whispered harshly, yanking him down. "I'll be quiet."

Dean grinned again. "No, you can talk. Just don't point your finger at me over every little thing, okay, baby-Seth? We'll be good. Hurry with your fries. I want to take you elsewhere."

"No, you're taking me home after this," Seth replied, eyes glaring again. He was one second away from throwing his milkshake into Dean's face without any regrets. He was slowly but surely losing his shyness and getting more comfortable and though that was what Dean wanted, it surely wouldn't be too good for him.

"I am not." Dean's eyes sparkled as he tapped his fingers on the table, and the neon lights reflected on his face, and he looked horribly innocent, in a way that made Seth want to punch him. But then again, this was Dean Ambrose. Seth wouldn't forget that. _Fighting, mean face, bloody knuckles, fighting, fighting, fighting._

Seth hugged himself and sighed. He knew he wouldn't get out of this situation no matter how much he wanted to. So he just went along.

"Okay, whatever," he mumbled. "I'm not that hungry anymore."

Dean's grin lightened up again, and he practically fell out of his seat. "C'mon then!" he said to Seth, and immediately ran out the door. Seth had no other option but to follow.


End file.
